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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23083015">Dancing in the dark</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/niennathegrey/pseuds/niennathegrey'>niennathegrey</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the short stuff [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst and Romance, F/M, Mutual Pining</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:09:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,846</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23083015</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/niennathegrey/pseuds/niennathegrey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben is not a monster. He <i>is,</i> occasionally, a prickly, stuck-up git; during which times Rey just wants to smack him upside his infuriating, immortal head.</p>
<p>Rey’s not afraid of him. She knows— she <i>trusts</i> that he won’t hurt her.</p>
<p>So why is her heart still pounding? Why does she feel like she’s standing on the edge of a precipice, ready to run away — or to jump?</p>
<p><i>(Maybe it’s not </i>him <i>you’re afraid of.)</i></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Or: love comes in at the eyes, and Rey grapples with her feelings.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the short stuff [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658749</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Reylo Theme Event</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dancing in the dark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This started as <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23011720/chapters/55218658">a 300-word drabble</a>, but vampire Ben and hunter Rey wanted to tell more of their story. Again, thank you to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zrofyre">Zrofyre</a> for the gorgeous moodboard!</p>
<p>TW: brief, semi-graphic decapitation near the beginning.</p>
<p>
  
</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Parry— spin— thrust— and Rey’s blade presses against Ben’s throat, hard enough to nick the skin. (No blood, though. The undead don’t bleed.)</p>
<p>She could kill him now, they both know; and yet Ben is remarkably unfazed. He doesn’t tense up (further) or jerk back from the blade. He just nods slightly and murmurs, “Good.”</p>
<p>And <em> damn </em> if it doesn’t do something funny to her insides, hearing the approval in his rich baritone, seeing the warmth in his brown eyes over the gleam of her blade. Rey swallows hard, feeling herself flush.</p>
<p>Ben notices it too. His gaze turns keen, predatory as he watches the color creep across her cheeks. His nostrils flare, and his jaw works. “Rey.” He sounds rather less in control now. “I’m going to need a minute.”</p>
<p>Right, yes, of course. How can she forget? Rey relaxes her stance and whirls away from him. “Yeah, me too,” she says over her shoulder, plopping down on a log a respectable distance away.</p>
<p>She’s still flushed. Rey lifts the hem of her shirt and buries her hot face in it.</p>
<p>She’s been fighting with this— this man <em> (not a monster, not anymore, not to her</em>) for six months now. She hasn’t feared him for five of those months — not since he saved her life.</p>
<p>She was on Ben’s tail then, and in the middle of their battle, a group of other vampires — <em> all </em> with grudges against him, good lord — barged in. For a minute, she was tempted to let them fight it out and just slay the winner. But then two of them recognized her as a Hunter and turned their attention on her instead.</p>
<p>She killed one, but it was a long, hard fight; and by the time the second one descended on her, she was exhausted. He knocked her to the ground, her sword spinning out of reach of her desperately grasping fingers. </p>
<p>Rey's eyes fell shut as she waited for the final blow— and flew open again when she heard a sharp <em> crack</em>. A pair of black-gloved hands were wrapped around the man’s throat from behind, twisting it sideways at a grotesque angle. Ben pulled a knife from his belt and deftly severed the other vampire’s head. He threw it, and the body, onto the pile of burning undead corpses in the far corner of the warehouse, and turned to her.</p>
<p>He arched an eyebrow and said, “You need a teacher.” Then he offered her his hand to help her up from the floor.</p>
<p>Ben’s kept his word since then. They meet — sporadically, and in a new location each time; anything more regular would be too suspicious — to exchange intel on the worst of the rogue covens, and to spar.</p>
<p>Or, more accurately, Ben gives Rey intel and spends half the night running through combat forms with her, correcting her footwork or her grip, drilling her again and again until he’s satisfied, until her muscles ache pleasantly from use.</p>
<p>Rey sometimes thinks their arrangement isn’t quite equal. Once, she asked him, “Why are you doing this? What do <em> you </em> get out of it?”</p>
<p>“The pleasure of your company,” Ben replied. He wasn’t quite smiling, but there was something soft and warm in his eyes, in the line of his full mouth.</p>
<p>Her eyes widened. She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not — his humor was generally of the dry, deadpan sort — but still, a hopeful little voice somewhere inside her whispered, <em> Really? </em></p>
<p>Ben, seemingly unaware of her quiet delight, continued, “Also— exercise, practice, same as you. I can only spar against other vampires so many times before it gets old.” He grimaced. “Piece of advice: most of us are too lazy and too arrogant to learn anything new. If you’ve fought someone once, you’ve fought them a hundred times.”</p>
<p><em> Right, yes, of course. </em> Rey scowled, mentally kicking herself for being disappointed. “So I’m someone new to cut your teeth on, then? Fresh meat for you?” She sheathed her sword and roughly slung it across her back. “I could leave right now and never see you again. Go find some other stupid Hunter to <em> practice </em>on.”</p>
<p>Ben let out an incredulous exhale. “May I remind you, Rey, that you aren’t the first Hunter who’s come after me? I’ve had more than enough time to learn their combat and their tricks inside out.” His gaze turned inward, dark and distant; and Rey was reminded once again that this brooding, contrary man had lived far longer and fought far harder than she could ever completely fathom. “You don’t fight like them. You’re not bound by all their archaic styles and rituals.”</p>
<p>She tilted her head. “And your point is?”</p>
<p>“You’re something else. Something <em> new.</em>” Ben spoke with more fervor than she’d ever heard from him before, his eyes fixed on her with something like reverence. “You’ll be greater than any of them.”</p>
<p>Pride and pleasure swelled in Rey’s chest. “I… thanks, I guess,” she said. She tried her best not to grin like a lunatic, but she could feel the corners of her mouth twitching. “And that doesn’t… worry you, or something?”</p>
<p>“Should it?”</p>
<p>“If I’m as great as all that, aren’t you afraid I’ll turn around and kill you someday?”</p>
<p>“You might,” Ben agreed. “But if I had to die, I’d rather it were by your hand than anyone else’s.”</p>
<p>(That was the night Rey stopped pretending he didn’t fascinate her.)</p>
<p>Ben is not a monster. He <em> is</em>, occasionally, a prickly, stuck-up git; during which times Rey just wants to smack him upside his infuriating, immortal head. He trains her hard, but always relents when she says she needs a break. When they’re not sparring, he is gentle, and sometimes witty.</p>
<p>She’s not in the habit of sharing confidences, but he <em> listened </em> the one time she did (when she found out her parents were killed in a drunk driving accident shortly after they abandoned her). He listened, and told her afterward, “You’re not alone.”</p>
<p>And he really <em> is </em>a good teacher.</p>
<p>All of which is to say: Rey’s not afraid of him. She knows— she <em> trusts </em> that he won’t hurt her.</p>
<p>So why is her heart still pounding? Why does she feel like she’s standing on the edge of a precipice, ready to run away — or to jump?</p>
<p>(<em>Maybe it’s not </em> him <em> you’re afraid of</em>, a sage little voice in the back of her mind points out, sounding very much like Rose.)</p>
<p>A shadow falls across her, and Rey looks up to find Ben standing stiffly in front of her, albeit at a (presumably) respectful distance. (And yet, she notes, his shadow still reaches her. Good <em> lord </em>, he’s tall.) “I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>“What— oh.” She shakes her head. “Not your fault. No harm done.” And it really <em> isn’t </em> his fault, is it— it’s his species’ biological imperative, and yet he apologizes for it. Rey smiles. <em> No, not a monster at all. </em> She pats the space beside her. “Don’t <em> loom</em>, Ben, come sit.”</p>
<p>He does sit, but on the ground, such that they’re— if not eye to eye, then nearly so. He seems content to just sit there, and so is she. She’s still trying to sort her messy, confusing feelings out. But when the silence stretches on for rather too long, Rey feels, rather than sees, Ben turn to her. “What’s wrong?”</p>
<p>He’s a good listener, but she’s not willing to tell him… <em> this</em>. So instead, she asks, “If Snoke finds out about us, what’ll happen to you?”</p>
<p>(Well, she really <em> has </em> been wondering — <em> worrying </em>— about it for some time. She can’t imagine that the oldest, cruelest vampire in Chandrila, Rhode Island will be very merciful if he catches his prized apprentice meeting with a Hunter.)</p>
<p>Ben’s eyes widen. His breath hitches, and he clenches his jaw. She’s surprised him, apparently; and Rey’s heart twists at the realization. <em> Oh, Ben</em>.   </p>
<p>After a minute, he tries to smirk at her, but it wavers at the corners. He looks both ancient and young at once, and unspeakably weary. “I’m dead either way, sweetheart. The Hunters would tear my head from my neck and throw me in a bonfire the moment they won the war. And Snoke…” He trails off, the silence heavy; and that, more than anything he can say, drives home the misery of an eternity under the ancient creature’s thumb.</p>
<p><em> He’s so alone, </em> Rey thinks. Her fingertips tingle. She wants to reach out, somehow— touch his face, rest her hand on his shoulder, let him lay his head in her lap.</p>
<p>Ben shakes himself a bit, and continues, “Well. I might as well make it count, right? Protect the innocent, slay the terrors in the night, and all that.” A beat. “Although, humans are terrible too, in their own way—”</p>
<p>Rey scoffs and elbows him. “Don’t get philosophical on me, Ben; I was trying to be nice.”</p>
<p>“You <em> are </em>nice.” Ben pauses, realizing the banality of what he’s just said. He looks down, shaking his head, and huffs out a laugh. It’s a small, quiet thing, but still it softens his whole face. </p>
<p>In a flash of clarity, Rey realizes she wants to hear him laugh, to see him smile, to learn all the little quirks and tics of humanity he’s had to hide away all these years. She’ll never have that chance, if what he said comes to pass. He’s right about Snoke and the Hunters, of course; but she is nothing if not a fighter. <em>I won’t let them hurt you.</em></p>
<p>Ben’s lips part in surprise, and Rey realizes she’s said it out loud. “Rey,” he breathes, and <em> God, </em>the look on his face—</p>
<p>It’s the same look he had when he told her she’d be great. No one has ever looked at her like this before — like she’s something rare and wonderful and precious, like she’s the only thing he can see, like he <em> wants </em> her to be the only thing he sees, for all his long, long days.</p>
<p>Rey wants to run and hide. Rey wants to look right back, to fall into him and let him fill the empty spaces in her. </p>
<p>For now, the former wins out. She rises, and with only the barest tremble in her voice, says, “Another go, then?” She strides back to the clearing without waiting for a reply; and after a beat, she hears Ben get up and follow.</p>
<p>They resume their spar, but it’s different, somehow — more charged, more intent. It feels like the air itself is crackling in anticipation of something they know not what. Rey swings her blade in a vicious upward arc, and Ben brings his own up to meet it with a furious clash.</p>
<p>Their eyes meet once more. </p>
<p><em> Please</em>, Ben all but shouts, plaintive and adoring. <em> I know you feel it too. </em></p>
<p>She’s tired of running. </p>
<p>Rey lets her gaze drift down to his lips — trembling slightly, so full, <em> God </em> — and back up to his. <em> Yes, </em>she answers. </p>
<p>As one, as if in a dream, they lean over their crossed blades and meet in the middle.</p>
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